


Pride is not the word I'm looking for

by ArwenLightwood



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, But not the Hale Family, Canon-Typical Violence, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Mates, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Stiles, Pack Dynamics, Pack Politics, References to Canon, References to Drugs, Romance, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Bromance, Scott is a Good Friend, feral Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-22 23:43:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12493552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLightwood/pseuds/ArwenLightwood
Summary: Stiles is back home looking for a job when his father finds an orphaned baby. At the same time, a new threat comes to Beacon Hills.OR: The one where Stiles has become a loner because he doesn't want to face his feelings, Derek is struggling with his emotions, and a baby is all they need to find their way back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, there!  
> Just a short warning: English is not my first language, so I apologise in advance for my many mistakes!  
> Secondly, I'll try to update as often as possible (probably once or twice a week).  
> Thirdly, ENJOY! Comments and kudos are much appreciated!  
> Thank you for reading!

There is a baby crying, which is weird. Not weird _per se_ , because babies cry a lot, that much Stiles has learnt from his short experience as a babysitter for his neighbours’ four months old kid, but weird because there is a baby crying downstairs, and last time he checked there were no babies in his family unit. There was no baby last night either. He remembers that quite well. There were some Cheetos, Cokes, and a binge-watching session of The Lord of the Rings, but no baby at all.

Stiles lets out a groan. He is still safely hidden under the quilt, reluctant to leave its warmth despite his incipient curiosity towards the new tenant. It’s a Saturday morning, he shouldn’t be awake before noon.

“Dad?” he mutters, yawning.

No one answers, but the baby keeps crying.

Stiles throws the quilt to the floor and gets up. A shiver runs through his skinny body as soon as the chill air of November touches the naked skin of his torso. Maybe it is time to start sleeping with a t-shirt, he’ll have to look for his old stock of worn-out clothes.

By the time he gets downstairs, the baby has calmed down and is now babbling to whatever the Sheriff is telling him. Or her. Or it? The pair is sitting at the kitchen table, staring at each other with dreamy eyes. The baby is chubby, with a dark patch of hair on top his (its? Her?) head. He looks a bit older than the kid he used to babysit, perhaps a couple of months. His fair skin matches the pale blue of his eyes. He is gorgeous.

“I can’t have a dog, but you can have a baby? That’s unfair, dad,” he says, leaning against the door.

The Sheriff looks up, surprised by the sudden interruption.

“Did we wake you up? I’m sorry, kiddo, I was telling my little buddy to be quiet, but he’s as obedient as you are,” so, a baby boy. Okay. That’s a useful piece of information. “We had a situation last night.”

Stiles arches his eyebrows, expectant.

“Is everybody okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Not his mother, though,” he answers, placing the baby on his knees. “She probably was a drug addict. We’re waiting for the forensic report to confirm our theory, though.”

“That sucks…” Stiles whispers, kneeling before his father. “What’s up, dude?”

The baby giggles and launches himself towards Stiles. The Sheriff lets him go with a fond smile.

“We’re trying to find out if he has any relatives nearby. Until then, I was thinking he could stay with us,” he keeps explaining. “Maybe you could stop looking for a job for a few weeks and help me out here.”

Stiles stands up with the baby safely placed against his left hip.

“I wish I could say no to this cute face,” he says, rubbing his nose against the baby’s. “It’s okay. I wasn’t finding anything, anyway. I can put off my next interviews by a couple of weeks. Does he have a name?”

“Probably, but we don’t know it. But,” he adds hastily, “that doesn’t mean that you can name him. We are not keeping him, okay? This is temporary.”

“We cannot call him baby, dad. We should give him a temporary name!” he protests.

The Sheriff sighs. There are dark circles under his eyes, a proof of the fact that he hasn’t slept at all since last night’s shift.

“Whatever you want, kiddo,” he says. “There is some stuff from when you were a baby on the basement, but you’ll probably need to buy food and diapers. Go easy on the credit card. Nothing too fancy. I’m gonna take a nap. I need to be back at the station in less than five hours.”

“Again? You should rest, dad,” Stiles complains.

“I will once we find his family,” he pats him on the shoulder. “Have fun you two.”

Stiles looks down at the baby, who is drooling against his bare chest. Can that be considered as an alternative to a morning shower?

“Well, we better go to the supermarket. I bet you’re gonna be a poop factory, a very bad smelling one.”

The baby replies by opening his mouth and heading towards his right nipple. Stiles barely manages to push him back, terrified.

“Oi, don’t do that! No milk self-service here, okay?” he exclaims. The baby looks at him with his enormous and innocent eyes. “You don’t understand a word I’m saying, but that’s good as long as you don’t start crying again.”

After that, the morning turns into a race against the clock. Stiles gets dressed and finds his old baby car seat on the basement before driving the Jeep to the nearest supermarket. There, a sweet old lady helps him to pick up the minimum instruments needed for a baby’s survival, which turns out to be a billion of diapers, tons of baby milk powder, a super cool dinosaur stuffed toy, and other objects whose utility is yet to be determined despite the lady’s insistence. The pacifier is the only thing that keeps the baby (seriously, he needs to name him as soon as possible) from crying before they leave the place and head home.

Once there, Stiles puts the car seat on the kitchen table and follows the instructions of the box of the milk powder. After three catastrophic attempts, the fourth bottle is good enough to be offered to the little and anxious creature who is waiting to be fed. His phone buzzes before the baby finishes the bottle, forcing Stiles to reach for his phone while holding the feeding bottle with one hand.

 

**Scott: _hey maaaaaan, what are u up to??? Still coming tonight????_**

****

Fuck. The pack meeting. He had totally forgotten. Everybody is in town for the first time since they left for college. Scott is officially working now for Deaton as a vet; Allison is back from France completing an internship at the city hall; Lydia is home before heading to Houston, and has brought Jackson with her. The rest of the Betas, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd, are still in Beacon Hills as always, keeping an eye on certain lonely sourwolf. Tonight was supposed to be a happy reunion.

 

**Stiles: _suuuuuuppppppppppp. Dunno, man. I’ve received a little surprise_**

****

**Scott: _what r u talking about?_**

****

Stiles takes a picture of the baby, who is still enjoying the milk, and sends it.

 

**Scott: _babysitting again? He’s cute_**

 

**Stiles: _nope, he’s staying with me_**

****

**Scott: _R U TELLING ME THAT I’M AN UNCLE AND I JUST FOUND OUT????????_**

****

**Stiles: _calm down, dude. My dad found him and I'm taking care of him for a while_**

****

**Stiles: _did u seriously think that I was a father?!_**

****

**Scott: _I don’t know, man. Weren’t you with Alex like a year ago????_**

****

**Stiles: _I was with Alex for three weeks, Scott. And this baby is like seven months old._**

****

**Stiles: _also, Alex was a dude._**

****

**Scott: _oops. Unisex names suck. Let me know if you’re coming tonight. If not, I’ll give Derek a good excuse, don’t worry._**

****

**Stiles: thks.**

Stiles locks the screen and looks at the baby, who has pushed away the bottle and is now making bubbles with his own dribble. It’s kind of cute, to be honest.

“Okay, man, time to expel some gases before you burst.”

After a couple of minutes of patting his back, a necessary change of diaper, and ten minutes singing an improvised lullaby about Luke Skywalker, the baby falls asleep in the car seat, which gives Stiles the perfect moment to go back to the basement, retrieve his crib and take it to his room. The baby doesn’t complain when Stiles moves him to his new sleeping place.

Stiles spends the rest of the morning unpacking his purchases and browsing the Internet for parenting tips. At noon, the Sheriff wakes up and kisses him goodbye before leaving, not without checking on the baby and giving him one sweet look.

“Baba!” the baby shouts when they are alone.

“Baba!” Stiles replies, turning around the chair of his desk to look at him. “It would be so cool if you could talk, buddy.”

“Ba-baba!”

He is now precariously standing on the crib, his chubby hands grabbing the wooden bars.

“Wanna play? Is that so? Get ready for the most entertaining hour of games with Stiles Stilinski, then.”

They end up lying on the carpet of his bedroom floor, surrounded by old teddy bears, the new dinosaur whose name is now Miguel, and paper planes that Stiles has made with old newspapers. However, despite all these sources of diversion, the baby prefers to jump on Stiles’s belly, or to grab his hair and pull while yelling ‘ _baba!’_. If he weren’t used to bigger creatures manhandling him, it would have been exhausting.

“What is this?”

The sudden interruption startles them both, though the baby needs less than ten seconds to recover and start crawling toward the man who has appeared next to the window. Stiles drops his head to the floor. He knows who is there without looking.

“Hey, sourwolf.”

“What is this?” he insists, flatly.

“Well, you know how people are not born in an adult size?” Stiles replies, his eyes focused on the roof. “‘This’ happens to be a very recent human being. We call them babies.”

“I thought you went to college to get a degree, not to become a parent. Although that would explain why you’ve been avoiding the pack for months.”

Stiles snorts. There is a good reason why he hasn’t been around Beacon Hills so much lately, and it has nothing to do with his offspring. Mostly because he doesn’t have one yet. Why does everybody keep thinking that he’s a dad?

“It’s none of your business, but his is not mine. My dad has asked me to look after him,” he answers, ignoring the cutting remark about his absence.

Derek bends down to take the baby in his arms. It is an uncanny sight. Derek, muscular, with his leather jacket and dark jeans, holding a small and giggling baby who seems to be delighted with his new friend.

“You are the reason why Stiles hasn’t checked out his phone in the last few hours, aren’t you?”

The baby laughs and traps Derek’s lower lip with his hand, making the old man smirk.

Stiles turns toward them and frowns, still on the floor.

“What are you doing here?”

Derek doesn’t look at him, but keeps making faces to the baby.

“Scott told me that you couldn’t make it tonight and I just wanted to know what kind of poor excuse you had this time.”

“Is babysitting good enough for you?” he asks. “I’m not making these things up, Derek. You just happen to have a very bad timing when it comes to organising pack meetings.”

“Right. I’m sorry I didn’t see your roommate’s mental breakdown last spring break coming. Though he seemed to be doing pretty okay when I drove to your campus next day and met him in the coffee shop. He said something about you being all mopey.”

“You what?” Stiles asks.

Derek shrugs, securing the baby against his chest. When their eyes meet, there is nothing but coldness between them.

“It was the fifth time, Stiles. You had been avoiding us for months. I just wanted to see if everything was alright, because Scott kept repeating your excuses as if they were true, when they obviously weren’t,” Derek sits on the corner of the bed. “Is it because of Lydia?”

“Why would it be because of her?”

He has been talking to Lydia weekly ever since they left for different colleges. Of course, Derek doesn’t know this. He may be the Alpha, but that doesn’t mean that he gets to know everything.

“Jackson proposed a couple of weeks before you started dumping us.”

Stiles smiles to himself. Derek is getting everything wrong. As always.

“I haven’t had a crush on Lydia since Jackson became a docile kanima. I’m happy for them. They’re meant to be together.”

“Then, what is it, Stiles? What am I… What are we doing wrong?”

“Nothing, Derek. It’s fine, seriously, dude. I’m just a grown up now, and I have some duties and things I need to take care of, okay? I know you forget sometimes, especially when you’re shoving me against a wall or whatever, but I’m not a werewolf. I am completely human, and that means that as I get older new obligations come biting my ass.”

He is tired of these conversations. He’s had them with every pack member, from Allison to Boyd. They all have noticed his attitude, and now even Derek is willing to stop being an asshole to ask him what is going on. The problem is that Stiles cannot tell them. He knows Scott knows, because, well, they’re bros, and they do not need words to understand what they are thinking. But the rest… the rest will never find out. Stiles won’t let them as long as he keeps some of his dignity intact.

“Then bring him tonight,” Derek decides.

“You want a baby in your pack?”

“If that’s what it takes to have you there, yes. And he is not so bad,” he smiles to the baby. “What’s his name?”

“We don’t know.”

Derek tilts his head, his eyes scanning the face of the baby. It is now when Stiles is struck by their resemblance: dark hair, pale skin, bluish eyes. His heart skips a beat.

“What was your father’s name?” he finds himself asking.

Derek pierces him with his eyes.

“Caleb,” his voice is a whisper.

“Baba!” the baby exclaims.

“Well, he seems to like it. Caleb, it is.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What? Is it my scent? Do I smell weird?”
> 
> Stiles takes the hem of his t-shirt and rubs it against his nose. It smells slightly of apple mush and Cheetos.
> 
> “You just smell like you,” Derek says.
> 
> “Okay. So… my scent is not the problem.”
> 
> “It is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely comments and kudos!  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter too <3

Caleb turns out to be the best thing that has happened to the Hale pack since Stiles’s birth (or at least, that is what Stiles likes to say). Maybe it is because Stiles has bought him the cutest wolf onesie in the world, making use of his own savings in order not to upset the Sheriff, or maybe it is because Caleb is the most amazing baby in the world. Once in the Hale house, he asks to be hold by every single member of the pack. He plays with Erica’s curls, grabs Boyd’s cheeks, and establishes a very serious conversation with Isaac that is full of ‘babas!’. Lydia refuses to touch him, arguing that she is wearing a very expensive blouse, so Jackson ends up sitting on the couch with Caleb. His expression is the one of someone paralyzed by terror. Allison is infatuated with him, and laughs when Scott picks him up and Caleb starts crying.

“Why does your baby hate me, dude?” he asks Stiles, devastated by his reaction.

“He’s probably tired,” Stiles takes Caleb and soothes him, moving him back and forth.

He doesn’t look tired at all, but Stiles doesn’t feel like making Scott more miserable.

“What has your father found out so far?” Lydia intervenes from the couch.

“I haven’t talked to him since he left for work this morning,” he admits, sitting on the armchair. “They think his mother was a drug addict. It’s not so uncommon.”

“Maybe not in a big city, but here in Beacon Hills?” says Scott.

“He doesn’t smell like a local,” Derek emerges from the kitchen with a tray full of chips and drinks. Stiles’s stomach growls.

While the Betas take their time sniffing and trying to pick up whatever Derek has already noticed in Caleb’s scent, Stiles contorts himself in order to reach the bowl of Cheetos. Caleb interprets the movement as an opportunity to start climbing towards his head. Derek sighs and takes him before tragedy happens, taking a sit on the right arm of the armchair. He is so close that Stiles can feel the heat coming from his body.

Stiles grabs the bowl and leans against the back.

“It’s not just…”

Scott doesn’t finish his sentence. Whatever he is smelling is no good. Derek’s growl catches the attention of the rest of the pack, filling the room with a dense silence that is interrupted by Stiles’s chewing.

“What?” he asks, half of the Cheetos falling from his mouth. “What is it?”

“What I said,” Derek answers. “He is not from Beacon Hills.”

“And what’s the problem with that?”

Scott and Derek keep staring at each other. For once, Stiles would like to have werewolf superpowers to know what the hell is going on. He turns to Allison, who seems as lost as he is.

“What’s wrong with your puppy?”

Allison shrugs, a small smile on her face.

“Everything is okay, Stiles,” Derek insists. “Caleb is human, there is no threat in him trespassing our territory. Scott was just wondering about that. Right, Scott?”

Scott nods, slowly.

“Yeah, I… yeah.”

Isaac coughs and stands up. He makes grabby hands towards Derek.

“May I hold him now?”

When Derek tries to give him the baby, Caleb grabs the collar of his t-shirt and makes a high-pitched sound. His eyes are damp.

“He likes the sourwolf. A very bad decision, indeed,” Stiles says.

“Okay, enough baby talk,” states Lydia. “Can we talk about my wedding?”

“Our wedding,” Jackson corrects her.

“Are you gonna ask me to be your bridesmaid? Because if you’re not, then I’m not interested in this conversation.”

Lydia rolls her eyes.

“Allison is my bridesmaid, Stiles. Your place is at the back of the church, pretending not to exist.”

“Ouch, that hurt,” he complains. “By the way, are there werewolf traditional weddings? Like wereweddings? Or wereddings?”

“Why are you asking? Your Internet research hasn’t provided you with satisfactory answers?” Erica mocks him.

“In fact, there is plenty of information on the Internet about that. Sadly, most of it is porn. Why are people so obsessed with linking werewolves with sex, anyway? Are you looking for wolfsbane sellers? Here you have thirty webpages on Viagra for wolves! Do you need to learn anything about mates? Check these gruesome facts about mating season!”

Scott and Isaac are both laughing out loud.

“Why were you interested in mates?” Derek interrupts them.

“I’m a curious creature, man.”

“You could have asked me.”

“Oh, yeah, the great Derek Hale, source of useful knowledge about werewolves, and the most talkative person on Earth,” Stiles says ironically.

“And once again the drama couple steals the show,” complains Lydia.

Stiles sulks in the armchair and proceeds to spend the rest of the night eating and ignoring Derek, even though he is now talking to Caleb and making him smile and that is probably the cutest thing right after the wolf onesie.

The soiree passes uneventful. Caleb falls asleep on Derek’s arms, so Stiles is forced to cooperate with him when it comes to placing the sleepy baby on the baby seat he has brought with him from the Jeep. After that, he goes back to the armchair and keeps himself busy with his phone, participating from time to time on the conversation the rest is having about the upcoming wedding. At half past eleven Scott and Allison leave, followed by Lydia and Jackson. Isaac excuses himself and goes upstairs to his bedroom, while Erica and Boyd decide to go out for a nocturne run through the woods. Stiles finds himself alone in the living room, Caleb peacefully asleep. The water is running in the kitchen, where Derek is doing the dishes, probably waiting for him to leave, something that Stiles is not planning on doing. Not right now. He has to pick up his father from the station on his way home, and his shift ends at twelve o’clock, which means that he has thirty minutes to ask some questions.

Taking Caleb with him, Stiles walks into the kitchen and places the baby seat on the counter. Derek doesn’t turn. His back is broad and the black t-shirt that covers it is taut. Someone should recommend him to buy a bigger size for the well-being of humanity.

“Are you going to tell me what happened tonight?” he asks, trying to ignore the unwelcomed thoughts about Derek’s anatomy.

Derek keeps washing a glass.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

This is something Stiles hasn’t missed at all. No one treated him like a kid back in Berkley.

“I don’t know if you understand that Caleb is my responsibility now. And if there’s something going on with him, I must know, Derek.”

Derek turns off the tap and takes a cloth to dry his hands on. When he faces Stiles, he looks exhausted.

“Caleb is not the problem, Stiles,” he admits with a sigh. “You are.”

“What? Is it my scent? Do I smell weird?”

Stiles takes the hem of his t-shirt and rubs it against his nose. It smells slightly of apple mush and Cheetos.

“You just smell like you,” Derek says.

“Okay. So… my scent is not the problem.”

“It is.”

Stiles frowns.

“You have never complained about my scent before, dude.”

“The problem is that you just smell like you, Stiles. You. Nothing else. No pack.”

That takes him aback.

“I’m not one of you anymore,” he whispers.

Derek avoids his eyes, focusing on the floor instead.

“You are. We consider you to be, but you’ve been away for so long that… The scent is gone. Scott hasn’t noticed until today, but it’s been like that for a while.”

“I just should spend more time touching you… guys, right? It’s easy. No big deal.”

“If that’s what you want.”

Stiles takes a step forward.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… if you want a way out, this is it,” Derek says, looking at him for the first time. “Isn’t it what you’ve been looking for all this time? If you weren’t avoiding us because of Lydia, I guess it was because you didn’t want to be involved in our stuff. And I get it. You said it before, you’re an adult now. You probably want to get a job, get married, and have kids. I’m not saying that that kind of life is impossible while being in a pack, but we both know that it wouldn’t be so easy.”

Stiles opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. For the first time in his entire life, he has nothing to say.

“Think about it,” Derek continues. “You don’t have to give me an answer right now.”

“Derek, I…”

Stiles doesn’t get a chance to explain himself, to say that Derek is wrong in every possible way. This pack is his family. He could have gone to New York after his graduation, but he had decided to go back home just because of them. It doesn’t matter how grown up he feels while surrounded by other people. And neither does the fact that he got to eat curly fries every day. All he had wanted was to go home, to see how Derek had rebuilt the Hale house, to spend time with Scott, to talk with Lydia face to face. There was only one thing that had kept him from being with them every day, and that had been his own unrequited feelings towards the Alpha, and the terrible decisions he had made while sulking. He had expected to get over him during his university years, but the crush had gotten worse, and now that Derek has learnt to behave as a social human being, things are even more complicated. He doesn’t want to think about what he did a couple of months ago just to try to forget the Alpha.

“Don’t move,” Derek orders him.

His body has gone stiff, his eyes have turned red. The house is completely silent, only the regular breathing of Caleb filling it. Whatever Derek has heard, it is far enough for Stiles not to notice it. Stiles stays still, watching how Derek’s hands turn into claws. Isaac enters the room, his face completely wolfed out.

“Stay with them. Whatever happens, don’t go out,” Derek orders him before leaving.

Instinctively, Stiles reaches for Caleb and presses the seat against his chest.

“What is it, Isaac? Have you had problems in the past months? Any visitors?” he whispers.

Isaac shakes his head.

“No. Some hunters came to visit the Argents, but they were no trouble.”

“And now? What is outside?”

Isaac takes a deep breath, as if trying to catch more information.

“I don’t know, it… it is out of place.”

“What is out of place?”

“Something I can’t identify.”

 Stiles bites his lower lip. There is no use in asking more questions. Twenty minutes later, Boyd is on the porch, blood on his hands and his t-shirt teared.

“Derek wants you to leave now,” he announces. “And you to come join us,” he adds, looking at Isaac.

“Wait! What…?”

Both werewolves are gone, and Stiles is left alone with Caleb. He takes the baby to the Jeep, trying not to overthink too much. If he could, he would go after them. No doubt. But now there is a baby waiting for him, and a Sheriff who is counting on a ride home after a tiring day. Maybe this is what Derek was thinking when he offered him a way out. Maybe he wasn’t so wrong. Maybe Stiles should leave the pack.

He is still thinking about the possibility when an hour later he puts Caleb on the crib and gets undressed before throwing himself on the bed. However, the thought doesn’t stop him when he takes the phone from his jeans and starts typing.

 

**Stiles: _everything ok?_**

****

The answer comes unusually fast.

 

**Derek: _Yes._**

****

Stiles doesn’t stop to think about what to do next.

 

**Stiles: _everything ok?_**

****

Isaac answers ten minutes later.

 

**Isaac: _Boyd is ok, Erica will be fine by tomorrow morning. Derek needs Deaton._**

****

Stiles curses under his breath and sits up.

 

**Stiles: _what the hell happened???? Are you taking him to Deaton???_**

****

**Isaac: _He’s coming to the house._**

****

**Isaac: _We don’t know. It was fast. I couldn’t see anything and Derek won’t talk._**

****

**Stiles: _keep me updated_**

****

Stiles doesn’t sleep a wink. He checks his phone every ten minutes, replying to Isaac’s texts whenever they come. Only when he knows for sure that Deaton has taken care of the grumpy Alpha, does he lock the phone and sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t know what you want me to do, Stiles,” Derek admits.
> 
> “I want you to leave me alone.”
> 
> He barely recognises his voice when he speaks. It sounds cold and deep, indifferent enough to make Derek back off. But apparently, it is not so.
> 
> “No,” he replies in the same tone.
> 
> “Excuse me?” Stiles drops the scrubber and turns towards him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for loving and commenting last chapter!!!!! Hope you enjoy this one as well <33333333

Somehow Stiles resists the urge to drive to the Hale house the next morning. Instead, he stays home with Caleb and cooks breakfast for his father. He applies for several jobs through LinkedIn, and walks to the nearest park with the baby before going back home for a much-needed nap that they both take together on the couch. Scott stops by for lunch, bringing a pizza with him. They sit on the floor of the living room before the TV and watch re-runs of Criminal Minds while Caleb plays with Miguel and exclaims ‘baba!’ whenever Penelope appears on screen.

“So, have you talked to Derek?” Stiles finally asks.

“Nope, why?”

“You don’t know what happened last night?”

Scott frowns, but doesn’t look away from the TV.

“You mean me being weird about how Caleb smelled?”

Stiles sighs.

“No. And I already know you were lying, so stop pretending. I’m talking about the attack.”

Scott tenses immediately.

“There was an attack?”

Derek may be a bit better at social interactions, but communication is a field he still struggles with.

“Yeah. I didn’t see anything, but Erica and Derek got hurt. The sourwolf isn’t talking about it, though.”

“And you’re not there pushing him for information or researching,” Scott says, clearly surprised.

“Baba!” Caleb replies, throwing Miguel across the room.

Stiles smiles and takes him in his arms, placing him on his knees and pretending to be a horse for the kid’s delight.

“Here comes Caleb, the inter-galactic cowboy!”

The baby giggles.

“Dude, this is going too far,” Scott complains. “I know we don’t talk about it…”

“Then don’t talk about it, Scotty. I’m not a high-schooler anymore. If Derek needs me, he knows where to find me. But one thing is certain: I’m not going to go after him.”

“By pushing him away, you’re pushing everyone else away too.”

“What would you do if you were me?”

Scott shrugs.

“I don’t know, man, but I’d probably try to talk to him.”

“That wouldn’t solve anything.”

“If you say so…”

They stay silent for the next two episodes, until a knock on the door makes Stiles stand and walk to the entrance hall. Caleb is beyond pleased when the grim face of Derek appears at the other side of the door.

“Hey, Derek,” Scott says with a big smile. “I was just going home. See you next Saturday?”

“Sure.”

Scott pecks Caleb on the cheek before going out. The mischievous smirk on his face is infuriating.

“Are you coming in or what? It’s too cold for Caleb to be out here.”

He leaves the door open and goes to the kitchen. He better clean up this morning’s mess before the Sheriff comes back home. Derek follows him without pronouncing a single word, and takes off his leather jacket as if that wouldn’t make Stiles feel even more uncomfortable in his presence.

“Lend me a hand and watch Caleb, okay?” when Derek obeys without a word, Stiles lets out a sigh. “Are we back to your non-communicative phase, sourwolf?”

“You’re mad at me,” he says, dryly, which is hilarious considering that Caleb is grabbing his cheeks and laughing.

He looks as exhausted as he did last night, although a bit paler. Whatever happened, Deaton’s intervention hasn’t managed to speed up his recovery.

“You’re the brightest crayon in the box, uh?”

Stiles takes the empty box of pizza and puts it on the trash. There is a pile of dirty dishes waiting for him on the sink, so he takes the dish soap and the scrubber. God bless chores for giving him a good reason not to look at Derek while they have this conversation.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Stiles,” Derek admits.

“I want you to leave me alone.”

He barely recognises his voice when he speaks. It sounds cold and deep, indifferent enough to make Derek back off. But apparently, it is not so.

“No,” he replies in the same tone.

“Excuse me?” Stiles drops the scrubber and turns towards him.

“Stop isolating yourself,” Derek barks, eyes glaring. “You didn’t let me do it five years ago, when I kept running away. You kept showing up at my place unannounced with lame excuses, and forced me to watch American Idol and The Walking Dead. So now I won’t let you do it. I owe you.”

Stiles snorts, as fury starts running through his veins.

“You owe me?” he repeats with incredulity. “Well, in that case, you’re excused, Derek. I don’t need you to pay me back for what I did. We’re even. Now, leave me alone.”

 Derek growls, making Caleb freeze in his arms.

“So, you’re leaving the pack.”

“I don’t know,” Stiles replies. “Maybe.”

Derek nods before turning his eyes to Caleb. His expression immediately changes, and a soft smile appears on his face. The baby appreciates the gesture and responds with a ‘baba!’.

“Ok. I better leave, then.”

“No. Wait,” Stiles stops him. “I… I haven’t made a decision yet, okay? And if there’s a new monster in the woods, then I’ll stay until we get rid of it.”

The front door opening interrupts the conversation. The Sheriff appears in the kitchen with a big folder from the station under his right arm and a serious face.

“Derek,” he mutters.

“Sir,” the man answers.

Stiles leans against the counter. There’ll probably be a talk about him still hanging out with Derek Hale sometime today.

“What’s up, dad? You’re home early.”

“I need to take Caleb to the hospital.”

Derek pushes the baby against his chest, protectively.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Stiles walks towards Derek, stopping right by his side. Their shoulders touch briefly, and Caleb takes the opportunity to look at Stiles with his big eyes and a toothless smile.

“We’ve received his mother’s autopsy, and it’s no good…” the Sheriff sighs.

“She wasn’t a drug addict,” Stiles guesses.

“There were drugs on her system, but not the ones we were expecting. Instead, she was heavily sedated, and there were traces of other substances used to make people docile. We may be dealing with a victim of human trafficking.”

“Where was the body found?” Derek asks.

The Sheriff doesn’t seem to be surprised by Derek’s curiosity.

“Near the East end of the woods. Four miles away from your property. You didn’t hear anything, did you?”

“What?” Stiles intervenes. “You found a body and you didn’t ask the only person who lives around crime scene?”

The Sheriff shrugs, a bit ashamed.

“We thought it was a clear case of drug use, kiddo. And I know Derek, he has been taking good care of the you kids. If he knew anything about it, he would have let me know, right? But as it is nothing supernatural, I thought it wouldn’t make much sense…”

“Oh, my God, dad. You’re unbelievable.”

“I haven’t heard anything,” Derek interrupts. “Whoever took her there hasn’t been around very often.”

“What about last night?” Stiles asks.

“What happened last night?” the Sheriff drops the folder on the kitchen table and takes Caleb from Derek. There is a wet spot on Derek’s t-shirt where the baby has been drooling, but the man pays no attention to it and simply crosses his arms before his chest.

“Some uninvited guests. Nothing to worry about. If I find something that may be useful for your case, I’ll stop by the station, sir.”

“Good. Now if you don’t mind, my little buddy and I have some games to watch before our appointment with his paediatrician.”

Stiles waits until he can hear the TV before speaking.

“Uninvited guests?”

“Werewolves,” Derek specifies. “Some of them were feral.”

“What the hell, man?!” he exclaims. “Some crazy werewolves are trespassing our territory and you don’t even think about sending a massive text to let your pack now?!”

“I’ve let them know. Not you, though. Or Scott, because he would have told you, and I still didn’t know your… position.”

“Okay, okay…” he says to calm himself. “I’ll kill you later. What do we know about them?”

Derek sits on one of the chairs and takes a deep breath. There is tension on his shoulders, on the line of his jaw. His words may imply that he has everything under control, but his body betrays him.

“There were two alphas, five betas, and a couple of omegas.”

“That’s a weird pack configuration.”

“They’re not a pack. They are cooperating, but… I don’t know. It was chaotic. One of the alphas, the omegas, and two of the betas were feral.”

“The alpha got you, that’s why they had to call Deaton. You weren’t healing.”

Derek looks surprised. He didn’t expect him to know so much about yesterday. Good. It serves him well. Secrecy does no good to a pack.

“How do you…?”

“Isaac,” Stiles says. “I didn’t trust you when you said that everything was fine, and thank God I didn’t,” Derek rolls his eyes. “Now, we have work to do. A group like that is unlikely to have gone unnoticed through other packs’ territory to get to us. We should check the forums, and maybe call some of our friends upstate. It would be good if we could also get Allison to talk to his father, see if the hunters have something to say about this. They’ll probably want to help us out. And Scott should ask Deaton for more wolfsbane.”

Derek types every instruction on his phone without complaining.

“Done,” he announces. Stiles doesn’t need to ask to know that he has just contacted the rest of the pack. “What else?”

“Call the Judd pack. See if they are familiar with the group. I’ll browse the forums.”

He runs upstairs and turns on his laptop. Adrenaline is already taking control of his body, making him think of ten different possibilities at the same time. His brain is on fire, his fingers start typing without Stiles giving them instructions. He finds his way on the forums in a matter of seconds. He remembers well how he used to spend his nights posting on them, trying to learn as much as possible from other packs. It was in one of them where he first learnt about the endless uses of wolfsbane. Or where he found out that humans can become part of a pack as if they were werewolves. There are plenty of interesting new topics (which he marks for later) that remind him of how long it has been since his last visit. He started avoiding these webs before his summer internship. It had been some kind of therapy, a way of staying away from Beacon Hills and the pack after his many mistakes. And now he is back. Temporarily back.

Forcing himself to focus on his task, Stiles clicks on one of the discussions as a Skype alert appears on the right corner of his screen. He panics for a second, and desperately tries to decline the call. Nonetheless, his clumsiness betrays him and he ends up accepting it while falling off the chair.

“Stiles?” a feminine voice asks.

“In the flesh! Stiles Stilinski at your service, ma’am!” he replies, climbing back to the chair.

A beautiful girl with long, wavy hair is looking at him from the screen.

“How are you? It’s been a while.”

“Yep. Awesome. I mean. I’m awesome, not the fact that we’ve lost touch. That kinda ducks. I mean, sucks. Ha ha. Ducks. That was funny. Did you know that most male ducks are silent? They don’t actually say ‘quack’, they squeak or groan instead,” and now he is babbling. Great. “Anyway, how are you, Emma? You look great.”

The girl smiles, pleased with the compliment.

“I’m good, though I miss you.”

Stiles gulps.

“I thought you’d be busy decorating your new place,” he says instead of replying to what she just has said. “You know, unpacking and arguing. No time to think about skinny and irrelevant humans.”

“Don’t call yourself that. My aunt likes you. She is in fact wondering when you’ll be back.”

“Well, I graduated, you know. I’m back home now.”

“But you’re not staying there, are you?”

“I…”

“Stiles?” Derek voice comes from the corridor.

“I have to go. Talk to you later.”

He closes the laptop with a sudden clap, turning to the door just in time to see Derek standing there. His eyes focus on the hand he still has on the computer. He’s probably heard part of the conversation, werewolf superpowers and all, but he doesn’t say a word about it.

“A group crossed Ben’s territory a couple of weeks ago. They came from the North, but didn’t stop or cause trouble. I’ve asked them to stay alert,” he announces. “Have you found anything?”

“Not yet. I’ll text you if I do. When I do.”

Derek nods, but doesn’t move. He seems reluctant to leave.

“Is it… is it okay if I stay?”

The vulnerability behind those words is like a punch on the stomach.

“Mi casa es su casa,” Stiles says.

The way Derek smiles does nothing but to worsen that feeling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can’t believe you did it.”
> 
> “I told you I would.”
> 
> “He is not our enemy! I trust him.”
> 
> “I don’t, and neither should you.”
> 
> “Why? Why do you have to be suspicious of everyone?”
> 
> “That’s what has kept us alive for so long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There may be a couple of Game of Thrones' spoilers ahead. I haven't watched the last season, but I've used some of the things I've heard about it on this chapter, so sorry about that! (No big thing, though).
> 
> So far there is no much fluff, I know, but I promise you it is cominggggggggggg.
> 
> Thanks for reading and leaving kudos and comments!
> 
> Enjoy! <3

According to his paediatrician, Caleb is a healthy eight-month old baby. There is no trace of drugs on his system, so whatever happened to his mother had nothing to do with him. Stiles celebrates the news by taking him to the Hale house and letting him play on the backyard. Caleb spends two hours trying to eat dirt and rolling on the grass, screaming ‘baba!’ every single time a bird lands near him. The sun is going down when Derek emerges from the house.

“How was your run?” Stiles asks.

Caleb crawls towards him, showing off all his charms. Derek takes him in his arms before sitting down next to Stiles.

“Someone needs a bath,” he comments, smiley.

“Yeah, and Caleb too,” Stiles jokes.

Derek sends him to the ground with a shove. Stiles laughs it off.

“Boyd and I have been raiding the woods.”

Stiles arches an eyebrow.

“And…?”

“Nothing. We’ve even visited the place where your father found the body to see if we could pick up a scent, but there was not even a single trail left.”

“Ba-ba-ba…baba!”

Caleb tries to stand up and grab Derek’s chin, failing miserably and landing on his butt instead. The accident makes him laugh, and Derek responds with a big smile and pressing his nose against the baby’s neck. Stiles watches them in silence, completely lost for words. Caleb closes his eyes, calmly, letting Derek breath against his skin. Stiles knows what is going on. He’s read about it, he’s seen how Derek is always touching his Betas, scenting them. This is nothing new, but even so, it feels absolutely different. Maybe he should protest and argue that Caleb is not part of his pack, that he is his, and just for a while, but he can’t, not when they look to be so in tune with each other.

When they part, Derek’s eyes are flashing red.

“Sorry,” he mutters, trying to push Caleb away.

The baby complains with a pout.

“Don’t be,” Stiles whispers. “He likes you,” and it is true. Caleb likes Derek the best. He may enjoy talking to Isaac or playing with Erica, but in the end, he always chooses Derek as his favourite place to sleep. Not to speak of Scott, who manages to make the baby cry every time he walks into the room. “Is it okay if I bath him here? I brought spare clothes and his shampoo.”

“Sure. You know where the bathroom is,” Derek accepts. “I’ll cook some dinner.”

The second floor is where the Betas have their rooms. There are two bathrooms: one for Erica, whose entry is forbidden, and another one for Isaac and Boyd. Stiles has never seen their bedrooms. He has barely investigated the place in fact, as the refurbishment wasn’t finished until recently, so most of its rooms are still a mystery, especially the third floor, where Derek has his bedroom.

Stiles bathes Caleb on the sink, while listening to his babbling.

“Are you serious? I can’t believe you’re a Lannister. You’re too cute, dude, you should be a Stark,” he says in a ridiculous tone that keeps the baby interested.

“Baba!” Caleb screams, splashing some water with his small fists.

“I know, I know, they have it rough, but I honestly think they’ll end up on the Iron Throne. Daenerys is losing her mind, and Cersei is no longer a threat. Tyrion is the only one who may challenge their claim.”

Stiles rinses his head with extreme caution, keeping the water from Caleb’s face.

“Baba?”

“Yeah, they only want Winterfell back, but just give them time. As soon as Jon Snow finds out his origins, he’ll claim the throne.”

Fifteen minutes later, when they’ve finally come to an agreement on whether or not Jon Snow is a worthy Targaryen, Stiles has put Caleb on a clean onesie and is looking for a place for him to sleep. He passes Erica’s bedroom, as well as Isaac’s and Boyd’s, and stands before a closed door with Caleb pressed against his chest. He pushes the door open with one hand. There is a single bed against the left wall, right under one of the windows, and a big desk under the other one against the opposite wall. It looks like no one has used the place before. Stiles puts Caleb’s baby seat on the bed and places the baby on it. It would be easier to have a crib in the house, but there is no way he is going to ask Derek to buy one. The baby seat will do for now. After leaving the baby monitor on the nightstand, Stiles carefully closes the door and goes downstairs to find Derek placing a platter full of mac-n-cheese on the island that takes half of the kitchen. Stiles starts drooling.

“Oh, my God, I could ask you to marry me right now,” he says, walking towards the food like a zombie hunting for fresh brains.

Derek simply smiles.

“That was an interesting conversation you two had up there.”

“He’s a big Game of Thrones fan, yep,” Stiles takes a sit and waits patiently until Derek serves him a more than generous portion of deliciousness.

“I see. And what about the girl you were talking to? Is she a fan, too?”

Stiles drops his fork.

“Eavesdropping is not polite, Derek. We’ve already talked about boundaries.”

Derek sits beside him, looking at his food as if they were talking about the freaking weather.

“I didn’t listen to what you were saying, I just heard her voice. I can’t help having enhanced senses.”

“Whatever,” Stiles grunts.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“Dude, stop,” he begs him. “Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?”

“I’m just trying to understand what’s going on,” Derek replies. “A girlfriend would explain why you’ve been absent.”

Stiles gets the fork back and starts poking his food. If he were dramatic enough, he would say that he is no longer hungry thanks to Derek’s poor choice of conversation, but let’s be honest: he’s starving.

“If I had a girlfriend somewhere else, I wouldn’t be looking for a job in Beacon Hills, and I definitely wouldn’t have accepted an interview for a position at Beacon Hills Central Bank,” he received the offer earlier, which had been a great surprise. He’d applied for the job just in case, knowing that his internship at Google made his curriculum look great, but without much expectations. The position required someone with experience in programming security systems, and Stiles knew that there were people much better prepared than him. However, the bank had asked him to visit them on Wednesday. “Not that it matters, because I won’t get the job.”

Derek gives him one of his piercing looks.

“Why not? You graduated with honours.”

“Yeah, but even if I were the best candidate, they won’t consider me once they find out that I’m taking care of a baby. Something that they will immediately know, because I have to take him with me to the interview.”

“I could watch him.”

“What? You serious?”

“It’s a good opportunity, isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah. The salary is awesome. It’d allow me to pay off my debts in a couple of years, and maybe look for my own apartment. I could even rebuild my poor Jeep,” he admits. “But you don’t have to do it, Derek. You have a crazy circus of werewolf weirdos to take care of.”

“You’re pack.”

And then, he proceeds to eat, as if that were a reason good enough to settle the argument in his favour. Stiles watches him for a couple of seconds, wondering what to say. ‘ _Hey, Der, maybe you shouldn’t consider me pack, as, you know, well, I’m a freaking traitor. The pasta is great, by the way_ ’. Yep, there is no way he is going to say that.

“Where are the others?” he opts to ask.

“Isaac is working. Erica said something about tonight being movie night with Boyd.”

“How is Isaac doing?”

Derek shrugs.

“He doesn’t love it, but he doesn’t hate it either. He’s good with kids, and parents adore him.”

Stiles snorts.

“Yeah, I bet moms are crazy about him.”

“And the nurses, too” Derek smiles.

Isaac started working for the hospital during the summer, taking care of the underage patients when their parents couldn’t be there. This hadn’t surprised Stiles at all. It was an Isaac thing to do: taking care of others, making use of his werewolf superpowers to know what the most vulnerable need.

“Should I have a talk with Melissa?”

“She’d probably end up lecturing you, but you could always try.”

The rest of the evening is uneventful. After dinner, Stiles insists on helping him wash the dishes, and an hour later Stiles excuses himself and leaves the house with Caleb. Derek watches him go from the porch, his muscled arms crossed before his chest and a stern look on his face, one that hasn’t been present until now and that has Stiles wondering what he is thinking.

“Hey, sourwolf. The spare bedroom on the second floor… Who did you build it for? Scott? Jackson?”

“Scott and Jackson have their respective rooms on the basement, where they asked them to be,” he answers, flatly. “It was supposed to be yours.”

Stiles feels his eyebrows trying to escape his forehead.

“You built me a room and didn’t tell me?”

“It was a surprise. I was waiting for you to come home and see the house, and complain about not having your own bedroom. Then Scott would have probably offered to share his, but you’d have declined, because he’s kind of already sharing it with Allison. And then… then I would have showed you that you have in fact the best one in the house, full of outlets and with a great Internet connection. But you never came, and when you finally did you went to your dad’s and never spent more than two hours here.”

Stiles stares at him, wordless. Once upon a time, a discourse just like this one would have been a dream, the perfect excuse to recreate some shabby scene from a movie and declare him his eternal love. Now, however, it’s nothing but a nightmare. He doesn’t deserve Derek. He doesn’t deserve this pack. So, he just turns his back to the Alpha once again, and heads to the car.

When Stiles closes the passenger door after securing the baby on the seat, Derek is already gone. He doesn’t have a moment to think about it, though. As soon as he walks to the other side of the Jeep, something cold and heavy hits him on the back of his head. There is no time to scream or even touch the ground. He is out immediately.

 

“I can’t believe you did it.”

“I told you I would.”

“He is not our enemy! I trust him.”

“I don’t, and neither should you.”

“Why? Why do you have to be suspicious of everyone?”

“That’s what has kept us alive for so long.”

“He hasn’t done anything.”

“He was with him.”

“I could have asked him about that!”

“It’d have been dangerous. Look, I ignored the first signs because of you, but I couldn’t let this slip.”

“And now, what? We kill him?”

“We listen to what he has to say. Then, we make a decision.”

The two voices have been talking for a while now. Stiles is trying to make sense of their words, to see if he can recognise them, but all he has managed to do is to get himself a headache. He is lying on the floor. A humid, solid, cold floor. There is a leak somewhere to his left. He can hear the drops falling steadily to the ground. The chill air brushes his hair, so there must be a crack in one of the four walls that make up the room where they have locked him in. That’s all the information he has put together while lying like a dead body. He’s afraid of what may happen to him if he let his capturers know that he’s now awake and ready for whatever they have prepared for him.

“Let me go in there first,” the first voice says.

“You have ten minutes.”

Something (a fence?) squeaks open, and the chill air turns into a current.

“Stiles?” the voices calls. Stiles opens his eyes and stares into the roof. The place is too dark for him to see anything. “I know you are awake.” He grunts and stands up, ignoring the pain he feels under his skull. “How are you?”

The girl kneels beside him. The cascade of brown hair that frames her face is excruciatingly familiar.

“Well, you see. I was fine before you kidnaped me, Emma. Now? Not so much.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, he is,” Stiles agrees. “He’ll rip your throat out, Sonya.”
> 
> “But he won’t, because we have you, and that’s such a much better plan than setting up a trap. You know why?” she replies. “You make him stronger when you’re with him, but you’re also his weakness when you’re away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of violence on this chapter, sorry for that, but there are also a lot of answers to your questions! Hope you like it! <3

He worries about Caleb. A lot. He thinks about how he placed him on the passenger seat, how at peace he seemed to be, deeply asleep. He knows Derek has probably taken care of him, but that doesn’t calm him. Because, what if Emma has taken him too? What if they have done something to him? Stiles wants to ask, but he doesn’t, because maybe they don’t know that there was a baby with him, and in that case… in that case Caleb is be safe. And that would good. That’d be great, in fact.

“My aunt will be coming through that door in a couple of minutes, Stiles, and she won’t be as nice as I am,” Emma warns him. “So, please… _Please_ , tell me the truth. Were you playing me?”

“Won’t she? I thought you said she liked me,” he pouts.

“Come on, Stiles. Be a smart boy.”

“Let me get this straight. You are the one who decides to kidnap me, but _I_ am the one playing _you_? Tell me how that makes sense to you.”

“You found out what I am, didn’t you? That’s why you broke up with me and left town,” she says, ignoring him.

“We were not even dating! And I left town because I happened to graduate. I had no reason to stay there.”

“Or maybe you left because your pack was waiting for you.”

“And how does that concern you? I never was part of yours.”

Emma tilts her head, her brown eyes scanning his face.

“So, you did know that we were a pack.”

“Took me a while, but yeah. It was quite obvious.”

Emma lets out a sigh and stands up. When she starts pacing the room, Stiles decides to lean back against the wall and give his headache a rest by clamping his eyelids shut.

“I can’t believe you outsmarted us. The plan was perfect,” she mutters to herself. “And yet, somehow, you managed to come back, save your Alpha, and get the baby.”

The baby. The _baby_. Caleb. What the hell has Caleb to do with all this? A shiver runs through his tired body. _Derek, please, be an intelligent man and see the big picture_ , he thinks, hoping for the man to have taken Caleb out of the woods and to a safe place.

“I’m all brains,” he brags, expecting Emma not to notice that he has in fact no idea what she’s talking about.

The fence is opened again, and this time a woman in her fifties enters.

“Enough, Emma,” Sonya says. “Leave us alone.”

The girl doesn’t hesitate. A Beta’s loyalty towards her Alpha is well above crushes.

When the fence closes behind her, Sonya crosses the room to stand right in front of Stiles. Their eyes meet for what seems to be an eternity.

“Stiles Stilinski, the weakest member of the Hale pack,” she savors each word, her thin lips pronouncing them with evident pleasure. “I was surprised when Emma came back saying that she had finally met you. It was pure luck, I guess. We have heard rumors about you, the only human in the new pack. People said that your loyalty knew no limits, but of course… loyalty is not powerful enough when there is a broken heart involved, is it? You were absolutely miserable. Such was your situation, that you didn’t even notice what we were.”

“Wasn’t paying much attention…” he whispers.

“I know you weren’t. You talked and talked about your pack, about how much you missed them. But above all, you talked about him. Your Alpha. Derek Hale.” Stiles doesn’t need to be reminded of that. The guilt of his carelessness has been eating him up for months. “You told us so much about him… Even if you didn’t mention what he was, nor everything you have done for his pack, we ended up knowing everything we needed.”

“Needed…why?” he can’t help but ask.

Sonya smiles, dangerously.

“You haven’t met all of us. If you had, you would have seen that we are not a conventional pack. We defy the traditional dynamics, bend them so that they fit our necessities,” she explains. “Consequently, we have never been attached to a land, and we would like to change that. A decade ago, the Hale territory was orphaned. It was our chance. We decided to travel all the way to Beacon Hills and claim it as ours, but when we finally arrived we found a land being stormed by an Alpha pack. A powerful one. So, we left, and we waited, and waited, until one day my dear Emma found you drunk and heart-broken in a bar. And you gave us what we needed. Thanks to you we learnt that the Hale pack was once again weak, because its members were scattered across the country. We found out that the Alpha’s mate was away, and dubious about his partner’s feelings. It was our opportunity, and we took it. We set up a trap. The perfect one. We needed to face the Alpha alone, and what could make him leave his Betas behind? The possibility of adding a new member to his pack. That’s why we left the baby there, unprotected. But he never came. He didn’t even know that there was a baby in the first place, because he was too busy watching your house every night, making sure that you were safe. Instead, the police found the baby and gave him to you. And of course, you took him to the pack. We were expecting you to stay away from them, from him, but you didn’t. And so, we failed. And so, we decided to attack. But the remaining Betas are too strong, and your Alpha… your Alpha is dangerous. Extremely so.”

“Yeah, he is,” Stiles agrees. “He’ll rip your throat out, Sonya.”

“But he won’t, because we have you, and that’s such a much better plan than setting up a trap. You know why?” she replies. “You make him stronger when you’re with him, but you’re also his weakness when you’re away.”

“You’re mistaken,” he finds himself saying. “I _do_ love him, but he doesn’t love me back. He wouldn’t risk his entire pack for me. He is not stupid. And most importantly, I’m not his mate.”

“Would you like to bet?”

He wouldn’t. Because he knows how stupidly loyal and brave and heroic Derek is. The jerk built an entire house for his pack, a pack that isn’t grateful enough, and still, he doesn’t mind. Because that’s how Derek is: selfless.

“Can we not?” he asks. “Look, Sonya. This territory is taken. And maybe our pack is still small and young, but we are not going anywhere. Why don’t you move somewhere else? We promise to let you go unharmed.”

That makes her laugh. Woah, sometimes Stiles forgets how funny he can be without meaning it.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Stiles. Your pack is already here.”

Stiles tries to stand up and run, but Sonya shoves him against the wall. Her breath is warm on his skin.

“Stay and watch how we kill them all.”

Sonya pushes him towards the fence, her claws scratching the skin on his nape. The woman leads him through several corridors, and forces him to climb several stairs before reaching the entrance of… the cave? The warehouse? Where the hell are they? The place is surrounded by trees, but not like those that are near the Hale house. Here the trunks are wider, and the sky is hidden behind the leafy crowns of the trees.

Scott being thrown against one of those trees is what makes Stiles pay attention to the confrontation that is taking place. He can barely distinguish his friends from Sonya’s pack as they fight each other, but he can perfectly smell the fresh blood and hear the angry growls.

“Look who is here!” Sonya exclaims, victorious.

The movement suddenly stops. Scott, lying on the floor, keeps his eyes shut.

“Let. Him. Go.”

It isn’t easy to understand what Derek says. His voice is low, rough. He has an Alpha werewolf that looks feral trapped under his weight, struggling to break free.

“Let’s make a deal,” Sonya suggests, letting her hand slip from Stiles’s neck to his shoulder. “Your boy for your territory.”

Derek growls, showing his threatening fangs and flashing his eyes red. He’s pissed. Like a lot. Stiles gulps.

“Look at me, sourwolf,” he intervenes. “This is all my fault, okay? So, do me a favor and don’t do anything stupid. Save you territory, kill these bastards. I’ll be fine.”

As an answer, Derek buries the feral Alpha’s head on the ground with a single movement of his right hand. There is a crack, possibly his skull being crashed. He stops moving, and Sonya lets out a hiss, while her claws find their way through Stiles’s flesh. He contorts himself, trying to relieve the pressure of the grip. It hurts like hell. The rest of the werewolves interpret his movement as a sign to resume the fight. Stiles’s lets out a scream when one of them takes Scott by the throat and shoves him against the ground. He tries to free himself from Sonya, only managing to be manhandled to the floor. There is a crack coming from one of his bones, although he doesn’t know which one.

“Stupid kid…” Sonya spits out.

This is it. This is how his life ends. It is not a surprise. After all, he would have been disappointed if he had died from a heart attack or any other mundane condition. A werewolf eviscerating him in the middle of nowhere is okay. Well, not okay, because as he closes his eyes and waits for Sonya’s claws to open his belly, Stiles knows that this is going to be terribly painful. Hopefully, it won’t last long. _Please, let it be quick_. But it is fine because he has had years to prepare for it. And at least, this time he knows he deserves it. He got drunk, he was heartbroken because everybody else was moving on and getting engaged and making awesome plans, while he was still pinning for Derek, and he trusted a stranger. This could have all led to any other member of the pack dead, so it’s good that he is the one getting murdered. Not the worst-case scenario for sure.

Nonetheless, the coup de grâce never comes. Stiles lies still for a couple of seconds, bracing himself, praying for mercy, until a hand grabs him by the collar of his hoodie and drags him towards the building. It’s Erica.

“You ok?” she asks, breathless.

“Yep. I think so.”

“Good. Now, find shelter. This may take a while.”

He would love to disobey and follow her, but his knees fail him as soon as Erica is gone. The wound that Sonya’s claws have left on his nape is still bleeding. It isn’t deep, but it hurts as much as his head does. And he is shaking so much he can’t even keep his hands from shivering. He is a mess that is about to start crying, and so he does. He cries for his friends and his mistakes. He cries for not being good enough, for not being loved. He cries for Caleb, who will never meet his mother because of him. He cries for his father, whom he is always disappointing. But above all, he cries for himself.

When a pair of warm arms takes him from the ground, he doesn’t complain. He doesn’t even open his eyes, either. He just presses his head against Derek’s chest, and wishes for him to forgive him for what he’s done, and prays for Scott to be alive. Derek doesn’t speak, he just walks and walks until they leave the woods behind.

When Stiles comes back to his senses, he is lying on his bed.

Alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry,” Derek mumbles.
> 
> That takes Stiles by surprise.
> 
> “Excuse me… what? I mean, WHAT?”
> 
> Derek sighs.
> 
> “It was my fault.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! I hope you all had a great Halloween!!  
> I just wanted to tell you that I'm thinking of writing an epilogue, so if there's something you would like to see or have explained, let me know in the comments! I'll take into account all your suggestions!  
> Thank you for reading! <3333333

A broken wrist and around fifteen bruises are all he has left from the kidnapping. The Sheriff drives him home from the hospital, as his Jeep is still in the woods and he is in no condition to drive. Caleb is once again with them, after his father picked him up from the Hale house, where Lydia has been looking after him. He is now giggling and yelling ‘ _baba!_ ’ to catch their attention. Stiles can’t stop himself from smiling every time their eyes meet on the rear mirror.

“What is going to happen to him?” he asks.

“Well, I’m still trying to close the case without mentioning your supernatural friends. Meanwhile, he’ll stay with us,” the Sheriff answers without facing him. “I’ve put together all the information we have on his mother. It’s on the glove compartment, in case you want to check it out before I classify it.”

Stiles nods and opens the box to find the brown folder.

“Did… Did Derek tell you everything?”

It is terribly difficult to say his name out loud.

“More or less. He always leaves out the goriest details. What he didn’t know, though, was how you met them, and Scott wouldn’t tell.”

His throat goes dry. Of course, Derek doesn’t know. Only Scott does. So, he tells him everything, every single detail, from his stupid crush on Derek to his drunken nights in Berkeley. The Sheriff listens to him, asks a few questions, and keeps driving. When he talks, they are already parked before their house.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… have a little faith on Hale, kiddo, and give him a chance to decide by himself whether he forgives you or not,” his father sighs. “And, Stiles? You’re a good kid. A great one. I’m incredibly proud of the person you’ve become. But you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Everybody makes mistakes, and you should know it better than anyone, because you’re always the first forgiving them. It was about damn time you made one.”

Tears are running down Stiles’s cheeks.

“This one was really bad, dad,” he whispers. “Scott…”

The Sheriff takes him by the shoulders.

“Scott is fine. Maybe it was a big mistake, I don’t know, kiddo, but all I can see is that your pack is safe, and so is Caleb. There are only two persons in pain right now, and it is on your hands to solve that,” the man leaves the car. “Now come inside, take a shower, and decide what you want to do next.”

And so, Stiles obeys and spends the next two days trying to build up the nerve to go back to the Hale house. He visits Scott the first night his father stays at home instead of working, leaving Caleb with him. His friend receives him with a hug, and immediately drags him to his bedroom.

“You look fine,” Stiles says, still a bit uncomfortable.

“It took me like three hours to heal, but I’m brand new now,” he goofily smiles. “You know it wasn’t your fault, right?” Stiles scoffs at his question and throws himself on the bed. “I’m serious, man. I knew what you had done, and I didn’t do anything about it either.”

“You told me to talk to Derek,” he reminds him.

“Well, when I told you that I was talking about your feelings, not about your affair with another pack,” Scott takes a seat beside him.

Stiles lets out a groan.

“Oh, my God, don’t call it that,” he begs him.

“Feelings or affair?” if it weren’t Scott, Stiles would have hit him for being so obnoxious.

“The affair,” he clarifies. “Okay, so on a scale from zero to Derek horrifically maiming my fragile body, how do you think me paying him a visit would go?”

“Better than you think. He’s a bit moody, but nothing we haven’t dealt with before. By the way, he asked me to pick up Caleb from your place tomorrow morning. He said something about an interview?”

Fuck. The bank. The freaking interview. He hasn’t prepared anything.

“Kill me now, Scotty,” he’s so screwed… but, wait a moment. “Derek still wants to babysit Caleb?”

“I guess? I’ll drop him by the house before heading to the clinic,” Scott answers.

“But he won’t come to pick him up himself.”

Scott shrugs.

“I think he’s trying to give you some space, buddy. And you kind of still owe him an explanation, so maybe it should be you the one going after him.”

When did Derek Hale start behaving as a functional social being? Stiles curses him for that.

“Okay, I’ll talk to him after the interview. If he doesn’t kick me out of the pack, see you on Saturday’s meeting?”

“Absolutely. Good luck, man. Let me know how it goes.”

Stiles barely sleeps the night before the interview. He stays up watching Caleb on his crib. There is something calming in the way the baby breathes, but not soothing enough to send him back to bed. When the morning comes, Stiles takes a quick shower and puts on a white shirt, a pair of black jeans, and a blazer of the same color. Following Lydia’s tips, he covers the bruises on his neck with some make up, and makes sure the bandage that covers his wrist is as clean as possible.

Scott stops by and takes Caleb with him as promised (surprisingly, the baby doesn’t cry when he sees him), giving Stiles more than enough time to have breakfast and head to the bank. He is the only candidate for the job, or at least the only one they are interviewing today. Stiles tells the woman about his internship and interests, and jokes about having broken his wrist while helping his father out with some home repair. For forty glorious minutes, he forgets everything about werewolves and treasons, and leaves the place with a pleasant feeling of self-satisfaction that doesn’t last long, as he finds himself before the Hale house an hour later, remembering all his mistakes.

Stiles walks into the house without knocking, using the spare key Derek gave him before the summer. He takes off his blazer and follows the noises Caleb is making until finding him in the living room, sitting on Derek’s lap and watching some cartoons on the TV.

“How did it go?” Derek asks without looking at him.

Stiles freezes behind the couch, unable to take another step forward.

“Good, I think,” he answers, his voice trembling. “Did you two have fun?”

Caleb turns his head and smiles.

“Baba!” he tries to escape from Derek’s grip, forcing Stiles to sit beside them to take him in his arms.

“Hello there, buddy. I’ve missed you, too,” Stiles says, hugging him.

“He’s already eaten and taken a nap,” Derek announces, standing up. “I’ve left his bag and car seat in the hall.”

 _See yourself out_ , it’s what his body language is saying.

“Can we talk?” he hurries to ask before the Alpha leaves the room.

The man watches him intently for a couple of seconds, but finally nods and sits down once again.

“I met Emma last April,” Stiles mutters.

It is easy to speak when he doesn’t have to face his eyes, so he keeps himself busy playing with Caleb while his mouth talks and talks until there is nothing left to say. At some point tears start running down his cheeks, and Caleb, perceiving the sadness, rubs his face against Stiles’s chest. His drool dampens his shirt, but Stiles doesn’t care.

Once he is done explaining, the silence takes over the house. Derek is still motionless by his side, watching him. Every time he tells the story out loud he becomes more and more aware of how childish and stupid he has been.

“I’m sorry,” Derek mumbles.

That takes Stiles by surprise.

“Excuse me… what? I mean, _WHAT_?”

Derek sighs.

“It was my fault.”

And suddenly, Stiles is laughing so hard he no longer knows the reason why there are tears on his face.

“Oh, my God, Derek. No. I’m not letting you take responsibility for my acts. How the hell is this your fault?!”

Derek is now glaring at him, deadpan.

“I’m your Alpha, Stiles. I have to take care of my pack, and I’ve failed you. I didn’t see in how much pain you were.”

“Stop that werewolf crap right now,” Stiles interrupts him. “I don’t give a shit about pack dynamics or politics or whatever this bullshit is, okay? And I won’t let you add my mistake to the endless list of reasons you have to be miserable.”

Derek eyes Caleb for a moment.

“Language,” he warns him.

“Are you serious? _Language_? That’s all you have to say?”

Although, okay, maybe he is right and Stiles should watch his vocabulary when there is a very impressionable kid in his arms. A kid that is now looking at him with big eyes, and a face that announces that if they keep this tone Stiles won’t be the only one crying.

Derek growls and moves toward the stairs without a word. Stiles gets up and waits, unsure about what to do next. Before he can make a decision, Derek is back and shoving a long-sleeve Henley against his chest.

“Wear it,” Derek barks, his eyes almost flashing. “From now on you will be spending your free time here. I want to see you hugging the hell out of my pack until you smell right. And if you don’t, I’ll send Isaac every night to your bedroom, and believe me when I say that he’s a cuddler.”

Stiles snorts.

“Are you talking from experience?”

That gets him a dose of red-flashing eyes. Yep. Grumpy sourwolf.

“Have I made myself clear?”

Stiles nods, his smile disappearing.

“If… if you want I can use the bedroom you…”

“That room is no longer available,” Derek says, flatly.

That hurts. A bit.

“Oh, okay, no problem. I’ll be here tomorrow morning. Pinky promise.”

He offers him his pinky, but instead of grabbing it, Derek growls one more time and steps in his personal space. It takes Stiles a moment to understand what is going on, but by the time he does, it is already too late: his heart is racing and he is absolutely sure that Derek is smelling his arousal. _Fucking fuck fuck_ _fuckety_ _fuck fuck._ Stiles closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, waiting for the Alpha to be done with the scenting session. Caleb, taking advantage of his place between Stiles’s and Derek’s bodies, bumps his chubby hands against the man’s chest. It makes him giggle.

After what must be a minute that lasts an eternity, Derek steps back and goes upstairs without a word.

“That was intense,” Stiles whispers.

“Baba?”

“Yeah, baba,” he replies. “Let’s go home, buddy.”

He tries to ignore the fact that Derek has overlooked his love confession. He really does. But it doesn’t mean that he manages to do it. Wearing his Henley does not make things easier, either, as his smell, that combination of aftershave, cedar and mint that always announces his presence, is wrapped around him and soon finds its way to his entire house. Even the striking physical similarity between Caleb and Derek starts driving him crazy, no matter how much he loves the baby.

It sucks. But if he is going to spend so much time with the pack again, he should get used to the presence of the object of his unrequited feelings.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s space enough for you in the closet,” Derek announces, as if Stiles needed to be convinced.
> 
> “I came out of it a while ago, dude,” he jokes as he sits on the corner of the mattress and watches him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: SO MUCH FLUFF AHEAD I CANT EVEN!!!  
> Sorry for that, but it's trueeeee hahahaha I had so much fun writing this chapter... I hope you like it!  
> Btw, I've added a new chapter to the fic because I've already written the epilogue, and I'll probably post it tomorrow (I love it so much I can't wait for you to read it).
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments! <3

Caleb is playing in the playpen, throwing Miguel against the floor and talking to himself. Stiles has set camp on the kitchen of the Hale house, the brown folder from the police station open before him. He has bought a blue notebook with a dinosaur on the cover to write down everything there is to know about Caleb’s mom. He’ll never meet her, but at least he will have a short collection of notes about her that doesn’t include a picture of her dead body.

So far, he has learnt that her name was Julia Grey from San Diego. She had no relatives or friends, and there was no data concerning a pregnancy: no medical record, nothing, _nada_. She was a twenty-year-old girl, with long black hair and blue eyes, and a background full of drug abuse and misdemeanours. Only the shelter where she had been living a year ago has noticed her absence. No one is looking for her.

“You’ve had a pretty rough start, uh?” Stiles mutters, his eyes glued to the police report. “Life is awesome, buddy, so don’t give up. We’ll find you the most wonderful family in the world. I’ll make sure of that.”

“What are you doing?”

The interruption makes him jump off the stool he’s sitting on. _Creepywolf._

“Writing down a journal for Caleb to read in a couple of years,” he explains, pretending not to be on the verge of a heart attack. “Are you spying on me? Because I’ve been good. I’m wearing your Henley and I harassed your Betas until they started growling at me.”

“If I were spying on you, I would have known what you were doing, Stiles,” Derek sighs.

“Fair point,” he admits.

“Have you read the entire file?” Derek leans out until his head is visible just above Stiles’s right shoulder.

“Nope, I’m not really sure I want to know what those lunatics did to her.”

“Then you should skip the next ten pages and go directly to…” his hands move quickly over the papers, until he finds what he is looking for. “Here you go.”

Stiles takes the document he’s being offered and frowns when he reads its title, and even more when he understands what that is.

“Are you kidding me?” he whispers, his eyes on paper. He is afraid the document may disappear if he stops looking at it for a second. “Where did you get this? How…?”

“I talked to your father when he came for Caleb,” Derek interrupts him. “I told him that I wanted to do it, and that Deaton could forge the necessary documents.”

“And he is alright with forging official documents? Are you sure that was my father?”

“I think he’s got a taste for illegal activities now.”

Stiles must be dreaming. It would be the only explanation for what he has in his hands and the fact that Derek Hale is joking. Like, _actually joking_ about his father.

“Der, you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to, but…” he clears his throat before taking another paper from the pile. “I was wondering if you’d like to help me out,” Stiles’s jaw drops open. “You don’t have to sign it now, we could wait a couple of years until you get a good job. Or not. You don’t have to accept at all, it was just an idea I…” Fearing the possibility of Derek having second thoughts, Stiles grabs the pen and signs the paper. “Of course, you would that without thinking, you brainless creature.”

Stiles grins at him.

“Joke’s on you. Now you’re stuck with me, sourwolf.”

“I thought I was adopting Caleb, not you,” Derek points out, deadpan.

“Shut up.”

Derek arches an eyebrow.

“Make me.”

When did they interchange their roles? Stiles doesn’t waste a second thinking about that. He simply grabs him by the collar of his sweater and presses his lips against Derek’s. The force of the movement almost makes him fall to the floor, dragging along the stool, but Derek holds them both before laying his hands on Stiles’s hips. The necessity to make up for all the wasted time overwhelms them, pushing their bodies together and deepening the kiss. Hidden behind the intensity, Stiles can feel the anger, the fury they share for their stupid behaviour. Only when Stiles’s lungs complain about the lack of oxygen, does Derek free his lips and lay his forehead against Stiles’s. Their breaths get mixed in the little space left between them.

“There is a baby in the room,” Stiles whispers with a wicked smile in the face.

Derek snorts, trying to stop himself from laughing out loud.

“That baby is now our son,” he replies. “And I doubt he will remember our first kiss.”

“That’s all this is gonna be?”

Stiles wiggles his eyebrows.

“I’m already regretting signing those papers in the first place,” Derek sighs as he rolls his eyes.

Stiles laughs and kisses him again, before leaving the man rest his face against his neck. This time Derek doesn’t content himself with scenting him. Instead, he leaves a trail of hickeys from the earlobe to his clavicle. Stiles bites his lower lip in an attempt to avoid moaning.

“Okay, big wolf. Stop teasing me if you’re not going to satisfy me,” his voice is a murmur.

“Baba! Baba! Babaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Caleb screams, as if knowing that he has been mentioned.

Derek takes a step back and smiles like he’s never done before. He looks younger, different _. Happy_.

“Maybe it’s time for Caleb to take a nap,” he suggests.

“God, I love you,” Stiles says. Without realizing the importance of his words, Stiles stands up and takes Caleb from the playpen, retrieving Miguel too. “Let me get the car seat from the Jeep.”

“That won’t be necessary. Come on.”

Stiles follows him to the second floor, and waits patiently until Derek opens the door to his bedroom. Or to the bedroom that was supposed to be his, but that was no longer available due to unknown reasons.

“My dear little pony, Der,” he mutters.

“‘ _My dear little pony_?” he repeats.

“Yeah, I’m trying new formulas now that I can’t curse anymore,” he explains, letting himself in the bedroom.

Derek has turned the place into some kind of baby paradise. The crib under the window is big and comfy, much better than the one Caleb has been sleeping in. The bed is gone, as well as the desk, and now an armchair and a changing table occupy their respective places.

“There are some toys and a carpet coming next week,” Derek says, leaning against the doorframe. “And I was thinking of changing the lamp.”

Stiles puts Caleb on the crib and kisses him before turning to Derek.

“You’re a dork, and a romantic, and probably the best father in the world, even though you’ve been one for only ten minutes.” Derek’s ears turn slightly red. “But… I mean. I love what you’ve done for Caleb. This is great. I’m just wondering… I don’t know. Living with my dad is great, but if Caleb is going to stay here and you…”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupts him, taking him by the hand. “I’ll show you your bedroom.”

Hand in hand the two of them climb the stairs to the third floor. There, right in front of the last step, is a closed door. Derek pushes it open and lets him go in first. The room is an enormous attic whose walls are almost completely cover by windows. A bed lies in the middle of the space, covered with dark sheets and springy pillows. There is a desk in one of the corners with a laptop and a printer on it, and several bookcases filled with books. Next to the only other door in the room, a door that must lead to a bathroom, many frames hang from the wall, displaying pictures from the Hale family and the new pack. There is even one of Stiles alone, smiling to the camera the day of his high school graduation.

“There’s space enough for you in the closet,” Derek announces, as if Stiles needed to be convinced.

“I came out of it a while ago, dude,” he jokes as he sits on the corner of the mattress and watches him. “When did you decide…?”

“I was thinking of adopting Caleb the moment you told me about him. It’s something that I’ve been wanting to do for a while now, not only because I love kids, but also because it is good for the pack. Children are a sign of prosperity,” he replies without hesitation. “I told your father when he came for Caleb, and he agreed under one condition.”

“Not being accused of murder ever again?” Stiles guesses.

Derek smiles.

“No. He wanted me to ask you for joint custody.”

“I know I’ve already asked, but… Are you completely sure it was my dad? Because that doesn’t sound at all like him.”

“I was surprised, too,” he admits, taking a seat beside him. “Now I’m just grateful. Anyway, I had a couple of days to buy the crib and…”

Stiles shuts him up with a kiss, making him lay down on the bed. His hands find their way under Derek’s sweater, pulling it off. For the next hour, they stay in the bedroom. They learn how perfectly their bodies fit together despite Stiles’s broken wrist; how Derek is ticklish; and how, even though he complained about Isaac, the Alpha is a huge cuddler. Not that Stiles minds, because he thinks he could spend the rest of his life pressed against Derek’s warm chest. At some time, he must fall asleep, though, as when he opens the eyes the moonlight is bathing the room, and Derek is squatted down before him. He is now wearing a black shirt that shows the hickeys on his neck. It makes Stiles smile.

“Hey, stalker,” he mumbles.

“The pack has come, and we’ve ordered pizza. I thought you might like to join us,” he replies with a soft smile.

“No pineapple.”

“Pineapple is banned from our house.”

“Good. I’ll be down in a minute.”

Derek kisses him before leaving.

Ignoring the clothes he was wearing earlier, Stiles opens the closet and takes out a pair of sweatpants and a new Henley. He tells himself that he is doing it because he promised to be a good boy and let the pack scent him, but deep down he is well aware of how much he likes taking Derek’s clothes. It’s like having him wrapped around his body.

After a more than necessary visit to the bathroom, Stiles goes down the stairs to meet his friends in the living room. Caleb is once again the star of the show, responding to Erica’s funny faces with high-pitched laughs.

“Stop flirting with my son, Erica.”

The room falls silent while Caleb tries to run away from Erica and crawl toward Stiles. When the baby reaches his feet, Stiles takes him in his arms and walks to the couch where Derek is waiting for him. The rest of the pack is still watching him.

“That was a joke, wasn’t it?” Scott finally asks.

“Nope,” he turns to Derek. “You haven’t told them?”

“You like talking. I thought you’d like to be the one giving the news,” he says, shrugging and taking one of Caleb’s hands.

“Baba!” the baby screams, grinning at him.

“Stiles,” Lydia calls him, a bit exasperated. “Have you adopted a baby, even though you’re only twenty-three, single, and unemployed?”

“One out of three, ouch. Maybe NASA should reconsider hiring you, Lyds. You used to be smarter,” he answers. “I had an incredible interview with the bank, and I’m like ninety-nine per cent sure that I’ll get the job. And although I’m twenty-three indeed, I wouldn’t say I’m single.”

Scott, being the Sherlock Holmes of the group for once, points a finger at Derek, his vocal chords struggling to make a sound.

“YOU. FINALLY. WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME?”

“Sorry, mate. I was busy.”

Isaac wrinkles his nose.

“I thought that smell came from Allison and Scott,” he mutters.

“I thought it came from Lydia and Jackson!” Scott replies.

“What smell?” it’s all Jackson has to contribute to the conversation.

“They reek of sex,” Erica explains. “And I must say I thought it was Scott, too. Ever since Allison returned, you two have been out of control.”

Allison’s face has turned crimson.

“You may have enhanced senses, but you all have the investigative skills of a sock. We have hickeys all over our necks, I’m even wearing his clothes, and you still thought that the smell came from some other couple? Ridiculous.”

“Just to be clear,” Boyd intervenes. “You two have adopted the baby? Is he a permanent member now?”

“That’s right,” Derek keeps looking at Caleb with soft eyes.

“That’s so cute, guys. Congrats,” Allison says as she takes Scott’s hand and squeezes it. The way they look at each other after that lets Stiles know that they’ll be the next couple taking a new step in their relationship.

Stiles gives Caleb his pacifier and lets him rest against his chest before letting himself lean against Derek’s. When the Alpha drops an arm over his shoulders, Stiles smiles at him.

“What’s up?” he asks when Derek’s eyes linger for a little too long on his face.

“Nothing,” he answers in a whisper. “Just thinking about how much I love you.”

The day before he would have never imagined that he’d hear those words coming from Derek, and now he is right there answering with a:

“Baba!”

Derek rolls his eyes and presses a hand against his face, pushing him away.

Stiles simply laughs.


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years later.

“Hurry up, buddy! We’re gonna be late!”

They’re definitely going to be late and Stiles can’t find his Darth Vader mask.

“I’ve lost my baseball bat, papa!” Caleb answers from the second floor.

Like father like son. That is what Derek would say if he were there. Stiles can hear him pronouncing those exactly words in his head.

“Have you checked the kitchen?”

“Yes, papa, I’m not stupid. There’s only your mask in there!”

Just as Caleb answers, Stiles fingers brush against the bat, that is lying beneath his bed. How the hell did Caleb manage to put it there?

“I’ve got it!” he exclaims, victorious.

Stiles runs downstairs to find his kid waiting expectantly in the living door, his small hands holding the mask. After years of dressing up as a werewolf for Halloween, Caleb has finally decided to go as his other dad. So, of course, Stiles has bought him a flannel shirt that he is wearing open over a plain t-shirt, a pair of dark jeans, and a mini-baseball bat. The messy dark hair is Caleb’s personal touch.

“You look so cool,” Stiles says, giving him the bat and taking the mask. “Much better than with those ugly fangs.”

“Daddy has fangs,” Caleb reminds him.

“Believe me, _I know_ ,” the innocence of a six-year old is a complete blessing. “Speaking of the devil, your father should already be here.”

“Where is he? Isn’t he coming with us?”

“He’s kicking some asses. Some hunters’ asses,” Stiles replies absently while checking his phone. “Crap, don’t tell him I said that. And don’t tell him about the crap, either.”

Caleb nods, very serious.

“But aunt Allison is a hunter,” he argues after a second.

“She’s the exception to the rule,” Stiles mutters as the front door opens. “Here he is! Welcome home, honey! Ready for some trick-or-treating?”

Derek walks into the room with a bulge in his arms. Caleb greets him with a hug, making the man smile.

“What is that, daddy?” the kid asks, curious.

“I…” Derek is lost for words, so he kneels before his son and lets him take a look. “I found her in the hunters’ hideout,” he explains, meeting Stiles’s eyes. “They killed her pack, but took her as a guinea pig. I think they were looking for a definitive cure for lycanthropy. She must be a month old.”

Stiles drops the mask and walks toward them. The baby is peacefully asleep, wrapped in a brown and filthy blanket. Her cheeks are pink, probably because of the cold, and there is a patch of blond hair on top of her head. She is too skinny, but apart from that she seems to be unharmed.

“I couldn’t leave her there,” Derek whispers.

“Of course you couldn’t!” Stiles exclaims, leaning to touch the baby’s hands. “She is a werewolf, then.”

Derek nods, his eyes still fixed on Stiles’s face.

“Can we keep her? I want a sister!” Caleb intervenes.

Derek doesn’t move.

“You want her to stay, but you’re afraid I’ll say no,” Stiles guesses. “Are you serious, Der? There’s a reason why you found her. And look at her… How could I say no to that face?”

Derek relaxes immediately, a smile appearing on his face.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely,” Stiles cups his face with his right hand, leaving the other one with the baby. “I guess we could start our trick-or-treating session paying a visit to Deaton. You know, we should ask him for some candy and a fake birth certificate.”

Caleb is now beyond excited.

“Will you let me pet the little doggies?!”

“You’ll have to ask Deaton first,” Derek replies. “It’d be good if he could check whether the hunters managed to do something to Claudia or not. I think she’s fine, she doesn’t smell weird, but…”

“Claudia?” Stiles repeats, breathless.

“Well, I thought… I mean, if you don’t…”

Stiles grabs him by the collar of his sweater and shuts him up with a kiss.

“Ugh, gross…” Caleb complains.

“Gross, uh? Let me show you what gross means…”

Stiles lets Derek go and takes Caleb in his arms, pressing a million kisses against his face. The kid laughs and tries to escape before giving up.

“Oh, papa, stop! Please! Pretty please!”

Derek stands up and caresses one of Claudia’s cheeks.

“Welcome to the family, princess.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is it!  
> It's been a pleasure writing this fic, I mean it. I've had so much fun, and you guys have been awesome. Thank you once again for leaving comments and kudos, you've made this crazy week of binge-writing completely worth it.  
> If you're interested, you can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ArwenLightwood) or here (I'll probably start another fic within the next month, God knows I can't stop writing fluffy stuff).
> 
> See you around! <3333333


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